Ice Hockey
by royalvite
Summary: Roy had never been interested in ice hockey before. Nor had he ever been attracted to a male either. But when a particularly short yet extraordinarily talented member in his new school's ice hockey team captures his interest, he finds himself hopelessly lovestruck. What's more, said ice hockey player happens to be in his new classes too... [highschool!AU][modern!AU][RoyEd]
1. chapter 00: prologue

_hello, hello, hello!  
this is actually my **first** modern AU for Fullmetal Alchemist. this idea came to me when I was watching Haikyuu! and even though volleyball has nothing to do with ice hockey, I thought about putting the FMA characters in high school and putting a select few in a hockey team. what do you get? this. XD_

 _because this is modern and I want it to be realistic, Edward does **not** have automail - but he **does** have prosthetics! they just aren't called automail and they look different. their appearance will be explained later on in the story but if you look up 'prosthetic arm' and 'prosthetic leg' on Google Images you should find a few ideas on what his prosthetics will look like._

 _ **final edit:** 24/08/2016_

 _enjoy and please don't hesitate to review,  
\- **royal**_

* * *

 **Ice Hockey**

 _a Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction  
written by: royalvite._

* * *

 **CHAPTER ZERO**

 _( prologue )_

.

Roy had never really taken an interest in ice hockey before.

It was the middle of the school year and he had just gotten off at Central City's train station after travelling home from his school in the East, when suddenly he had been dragged into his best friend's car and driven to some place he didn't really want to go to by said friend's kindly mother. It had shaken him at first - he had just expected to flag down a taxi and get back home to his mother as he usually did after school every day - but apparently his resume had been rather forcefully edited that day. _Of course_ , it was one Maes Hughes to blame for this.

Many of Maes Hughes' personality traits had mixed together to create a student who was going to get far in life. One of those traits happened to make him rather adventurous, meaning he was practically a magnet for new opportunities and interesting activities to take part in. While it wasn't something Roy particularly loathed about him, he had found it exceedingly frustrating in the past.

And Roy would have forgotten about that if he wasn't being forcefully settled into a middle-row seat at some stadium near Maes' house.

"What're we doing again?" Roy inquired tiredly, taking the container of popcorn that Maes offered to him. He observed his best friend's soft hazel eyes turn to him, shimmering in excitement behind those rectangular glasses of his, but they seemed to morph into bitter disappointment. Maes recoiled back in his seat and slapped a hand against his heart

"I thought you were smart!" he cried out in mock-hurt, as if emotionally damaged by Roy's oblivious expression. "Why don't you just take a look around? Once you actually open your eyes and unclog your ears, you'd be able to identify what we're watching today. Don't worry, you'd think it's interesting. I wouldn't have taken you here if I thought you wouldn't like it."

Roy decided to take his advice, if a little reluctantly, and took the time to study their current location. It was with great revelation that he realized he was in the midst of a crowd in an ice hockey tournament - the thick white sheet of white ice with those red lines painting the surface in a near-familiar pattern was a dead giveaway. The entire arena was surrounded by thousands upon thousands of seats for the observers, where a surprisingly small amount of people sat waiting for the match to begin. Wasn't a stadium of such a grand scale supposed to be for national tournaments?

This clearly wasn't national. Otherwise, there would be more people attending. Roy raised an eyebrow at how empty it was.

He was unsure of how interesting an ice hockey tournament could really be, but he said nothing; after all, he had never watched one before, not even on TV. How could he voice a negative opinion on a sport he was clearly inexperienced in? "Ice hockey? Really?" he said, cocking an expectant eyebrow and glancing at Maes. "It's freezing in here. Why didn't you tell me to bring an extra layer?" Even from the sidelines, he could feel the chill of the ice engulfing his body, sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine.

"I didn't think you'd need one," Maes responded meekly, "but I have an extra hoodie if you want it." The younger pulled a thick bundle of navy blue out of his black backpack and passed it to Roy, who took it and weaseled it over his head. "It might be a bit small because it's a little too tiny for me, but you're shorter than me so I thought it would fit."

Roy scowled as he slipped the hoodie over his head. Indeed, it was a little claustrophobic, but it _did_ keep him warm. Greedily, he nestled into the soft blue fabric. "I'm not smaller than you," he grumbled, "we're the same height, idiot." When Maes said nothing more, Roy contentedly chewed on a piece of popcorn and observed the stadium.

There were no players in view (obviously - it hadn't started yet) but everyone seemed thrilled; chattering excitedly, with their cameras already out of their cases and. But it wasn't their actions that puzzled him, it was the amount of them. For an ice hockey match, there were fewer people than he had expected there to be. And he also noted that at least three-quarters of them looked to be the same age as them, if not younger.

When he asked Maes about this, he had just smiled. "It's because the match is between two school teams, stupid. One team happens to be from my school - the one you're transferring to next week - and the other is from the Southern Academy."

"So... an ice hockey match between Central Academy and Southern Academy?" Roy repeated, his onyx eyes widening by a fraction. This was bound to get interesting. No doubt was both teams going to be quite good (at least, he sure hoped they were), but both him and Maes were automatically on CA's side already. After all, it was his new school (well, kind of), and Maes had been going there ever since they split at the end of primary school. "Do you know who's better?"

"I've never seen the Southern team play before, but I know that Central's team are pretty damn amazing," Maes responded distantly. His gaze was clouded over by his thoughts now, yet he still appeared snapped into attention. "I'm friends with a few of the members as well as the captain. I'll point them out to you when they come into the arena if you want-"

But he was cut off by the electrical crackle of the loudspeakers and an older voice boomed overhead, making Roy and Maes jump out of their skins in minor fright. Immediately, the entire ring quieted and only a few incoherent mumbles could be heard. Roy furrowed his brow, his gaze now on the ring. Was the match starting now?

" _Hello and welcome! I am your commentator for today's inter-school match, Sig Curtis from the Eastern Academy!_ " the man behind the speaker called out, his voice large and excited. Roy nearly choked - this was Mr. Curtis? His food technology teacher from his school? Why was he here?! Maes appeared to notice Roy's shocked reaction to hearing his teacher's voice and softly laughed but said nothing more.

" _First on the arena we have the six players from Southern Academy,_ " Sig announced, a little calmer now. It was now that Roy saw the people walking out across the ice on their skates as if they were walking in boots on the normal ground. From what he could see just by peering over bouncing heads and through the plastic sheet that protected the observing crowd from a flying puck, they were intimidating... and large. Holy shit, were they _big_...

They all wore extravagant colours of bright red with navy blue stripes, with the logo of a roaring orange dragon on the center of their jerseys. Because of all of the padding beneath their matching knee-length socks and their shirts, they appeared thicker and more rugged than what was under all of that protection. And on those skates, they looked a whole lot taller as well. In their hands were matching silver hockey sticks and Roy could just about see identical fierce expressions on their faces behind the cage on their helmets.

"They look terrifying," Maes commented and Roy hummed absently in agreement.

" _Now, Southern Academy's ice hockey team have been known for their merciless determination and unmistakable strategies when it comes to playing a match. Their captain has a track record for being fierce and assertive, but also fantastic at keeping his team motivated for their upcoming matches. They have taken win after win because of their unmistakable skill and have become seen as a formidable enemy on the field. Playing against this talented team has been a challenge for their opponents in the past. Let's see if they have what it takes to take yet another win today._ "

Roy raised an eyebrow, exchanging an uncertain glance with Maes. There were no doubts that they were tough - Hell, he could practically smell it radiating off them - and they were pretty damn large. Briefly, Roy wondered how people so big could have such perfected balance on those thin ice skates (he was too lanky and he had no feet co-ordination whatsoever, so he had never even bothered trying to skate).

"Jesus Christ," someone behind the pair muttered bitterly, "I don't think the CA could even begin to take them on. Do they do weight-lifting as their daily training routine or something?"

"Sure seems like it," someone else responded just as sourly. "I think they'll end up squashing little old Ed by the end of the match."

Person #1 laughed quietly. "Perhaps."

" _Playing against Southern Academy today, we have the school that has proudly kept the record at the top of the country's inter-school ice hockey leaderboard after taking it from the Northern Academy - Central Academy!_ "

Maes clapped along with many other members of the crowd as yet another team of six walked nonchalantly onto the arena, arranging themselves into a row opposite the SA team. The first thing that Roy noticed about them was that, unlike the Southern Academy (who's players were all pretty much the same height and shape), this team had a rather odd range of sizes. He was actually rather surprised to see that one of Central Academy's players were at least two heads shorter than the rest. It was like watching an eight-year-old play ice hockey with a bunch of sixteen-year-olds.

They all wore the same thick pads and the same black leather ice-skates, but their team colours were royal blue with a stripe of yellow-gold instead. Roy liked that colour contrast a whole lot more than the red and blue of the Southern Academy team. On the chest of their jerseys was the logo of some sort of dragon intertwined with two diamonds. The sticks they held weren't silver, but a pallor golden colour, with black handles and unreadable white writing boldly slapped across the sides. Maes found great amusement in pointing out that the shortest on the team had a stick nearly half the size smaller than the rest.

It wasn't funny, but Roy still laughed.

" _Central Academy players are renowned for their raw talent and incredible teamwork. Watching them occasionally makes one think that they are communicating mentally - they seem to know exactly what their teammate was going to do and where they were going to pass the puck before they actually do it. Their captain, despite often being nicknamed 'The Mother' of the team, is fierce when it comes to keeping them in shape. No doubt will today be a tense match if they're at the top of their game_." The loudspeakers crackled and Sig seemed to go silent. Wasn't the match supposed to start now? Where was the starting bell-

Just then, the loudspeakers crackled and Sig's voice died into silence with a faint whirr of energy. Roy frowned at this. Wasn't the match supposed to start now? Where was the starting bell-

Suddenly both teams split out from their line and circled on their half of the ice-surfaced arena, with the more thickly-padded member (most likely the goaltender) gliding ahead of them all to hover restlessly in the goal. "They're warming up," Maes told Roy helpfully, "by shooting at their own goaltender and lapping their half of the stadium. Look, Southern's goaltender is massive! Holy cow!"

But Roy's attention wasn't on the Southern team - in fact, it wasn't really on the entirety of the Central team either. Instead, he was focused on one member and one member only. That one member had entrapped him from the moment they walked out onto the pitch because of the contrast of their size beside the others. But now he (it wasn't exactly rocket science to be able to tell that he was a male from his body shape, even if it was layered by pads) was moving, Roy felt his breath rip away from his lungs.

The movements used in ice hockey were beautiful. He knew this already. Effortlessly gliding across the ice, their feet moved with stunning grace like that of a trained ballerina, their hands guiding their sticks with expert precision as they twisted in an out of each player in their way in order to intercept the puck and claim it as their own. They had to move as fast as lightning if they wanted to achieve perfect success. It was a striking thing to watch, especially for someone who was new to the whole 'ice hockey match' thing.

But that _one_ player didn't just glide. No, not at all. He practically flew. It was as if his skates weren't even touching the ice, he moved so lightly. Roy was silently in awe as he circled his team's half of the ring, his hockey stick held close to the ice as he whipped across to intercept the puck. His air of superiority and grace that no one else seemed to match made Roy wonder whether he was the team captain or not.

The lithe ice hockey player visibly put heavy pressure onto his right skate, effectively spinning his entire body in a sharp, effortless circle before his stick hit the puck. It shot across the ice at a speed that could outweigh that of a lightning bolt and even the goaltender was left dumbstruck as it shot through his legs and collided with the back of the net. Roy was unable to hear him clearly but he was sure that the smaller player had laughed.

His gaze flickered onto the SA team and he frowned as he realized just how professional they looked in contrast to CA. While Central were just shooting across the ice, intercepting and shooting the puck into the goaltender willy-nilly, Southern were actually taking turns and making it seem like a robotic routine instead of a ten-minute warm-up before the match.

Maes' hand slid into his field of vision and Roy snapped his head to look at his best friend. The younger was pointing at a random member of the Central Team, one of the ones he hadn't really paid attention to. Said player appeared thicker-set than the others under all that protective padding yet his balance on those thin skates was as perfected as his teammates'. "That is Heymans Breda," Maes told him, "but we just call him Breda. He's in my class for a lot of lessons - he's really smart, too, and he lets me copy his math homework."

Breda wasn't particularly fast, Roy noted, but the way he used his stick with one expert hand gave him a certain air that practically shouted 'practice'. It wasn't a natural talent, it was trained talent, and Roy found himself bored watching him straight away. He didn't seem like the most interesting person alive judging by the way he played. Though what right did he have to think that? He'd never even met Breda before. The heavy-set ice hockey play could be the most creative and unique person ever to exist.

Next, Maes motioned to the goaltender. "That's Jean Havoc. He's not smart, but he's in my science class and he's damn good at causing accidental explosions when we do practical chemistry. He's loyal, too, and he's funny."

Roy noted that Jean's reflexes were immense. Nearly every puck that flew his way was blocked by his hockey stick, no matter where it went and how fast it was going. In fact, the only ones that hit the net had been the short stuff's shot and the ones he let through when he apparently wasn't paying attention. Also, Maes found great amusement in pointing out that he was a whole lot taller than the actual goal and could probably block it all if he lay in front of it and stretch out. Roy had heartily agreed with this.

Then he pointed out a small (but not the smallest) member of the team, one who was moving rather nervously for someone who was doing a sport so fast-paced. His skate occasionally slid on the ice at an awkward angle and the one Maes had introduced as Breda would often laugh whenever he tried not to panic at the unnatural movement. "That's Kain Feury. He's really shy and he's a super big dork, but he's really smart and he's really good at computers. People say that he's the one who fixed the lighting for this place when they broke during practice one time."

Roy immediately liked Kain (even though he'd never even met him before). He looked intelligent even from underneath all that protective padding and from the sound of it, he was actually very knowledgeable. Something told Roy that Kain didn't exactly find ice hockey as exciting or as thrilling as the rest of his team did. Perhaps he was sensible and was more concerned about his own safety?

"That's Riza Hawkeye," Maes then pointed to a member of the team who moved almost robotically and was quite obviously female, "she's downright frightening to talk to and if she had a gun, she'd shoot you with it for getting in her way. Her fierce determination and scarily logical attitude were what got her into the position of captain of both Central's ice hockey and volleyball team."

Roy could hear her shouting even from where he was sat: 'Jean, remember to lay your stick out flat!' or 'don't skate into each other, idiots!' It was clear that she was frightening, bossy and scarily demanding... which was suitable for the captain of an ice hockey team, he supposed. He would have to flirt with her sometime to test her out.

"Now the last two, I haven't really talked to before. They're the youngest - they're both fifteen, not sixteen like the rest. I see them around sometimes, but other than that, I only ever see them when I come with Jean and Breda to watch them practice for their ice hockey tournaments. Even then, I don't talk to them a lot. That," Maes motioned to the taller of the remaining team members, "is Alphonse Elric. From what I know, he's like a mother hen when it comes to his older brother and his health."

Onyx eyes focused onto the tall, gangly ice hockey player with curiosity. He remained around the smallest of the team like he was attracted to a magnet, always staying at least two minutes within a certain range of him. When Alphonse moved, he was graceful and natural-looking, though he didn't seem particularly fast most of the time and occasionally his skate would slip awkwardly on the ice.

"The short one is Edward Elric, the older of the two. I don't actually know... well, anything about Edward, apart from the fact that he's short, he always wears gloves to school and that he's damn good at ice hockey. He's apparently got some kind of advantage in the power of his hit but Breda and Jean didn't tell me when I asked about it. They said it was something private... anyway, I don't think you two would get along. He may be a genius, but he's pretty antisocial when it comes to new people."

Roy curiously focused his attention to the shortest member of the team - now dubbed as Edward apparently - and observed in both shock and in awe as he chased who he thought was his younger brother across the ice. Both were moving effortlessly at lightning speed, though Edward seemed to be quicker and easily caught up to the taller.

They were all interesting, every single one of them, but Roy couldn't stop staring at Edward. He didn't know why this stranger captivated him so much, or why he left him breathless even though he hadn't seen his face before. He didn't want to think about those gay - _why are they gay anyway, it's not like he's a homosexual_ \- whispers echoing in his eardrums but, at the same time, he didn't want to stop listening to them.

Why did someone who he had never met make his heart race so _fast_?

He wasn't sure whether he looked forward to meeting Edward Elric next Monday morning.

* * *

 _that's the end of the prologue. please mind that it's only short because of that._

 _now I know I should really update 'Fractured Mind, Broken Soul' but this wouldn't leave me alone so I just had to have a try writing it! there are plenty of school!AU fics but I think ice hockey is a new twist on these types of fics! I'm actually quite proud of this and I'm sorry if it gets boring!_

 _regarding reviews... tell me what you think! remember that putting a little more detail instead of a simple 'please update!' or 'cool' makes an author happier. just please do NOT give me flames because I will punch something (I won't actually, but still). do you like the plot? any pairings ( apart from the obvious (; ) you'd like to see? just tell me! it will be a great help._

 _aiming for **10** reviews!_

 _thanks for reading,  
\- **royal**_


	2. chapter 01: first day

_review! I'm dying to know what you think. all those reviews you gave me were absolutely wonderful. thank you for those who bothered to review, and also thank you to those who pressed the follow and favourite buttons! ten reviews? that's insane! I thought we wouldn't reach it! purely, a miracle. I got tons of people saying they really liked my writing style - it's not that great, is it?_ _it makes me happy to know that there are people out there who enjoyed the prologue, though. thank you again!_

 _enjoy,  
\- **royal**_

* * *

 **Ice Hockey**

 _a Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction  
written by: royalvite._

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 _( first day )_

.

To say that Roy was nervous as he stepped out of Maes' car was a severe understatement.

For starters, the school was a mammoth compared to the petite size of the Eastern Academy he had previously grown accustomed to. The contrast was so drastic that Roy found himself actually _speechless_. Everything seemed far too grand to be a school. Roy thought it looked more like a grand castle or a military headquarters more than a school. Not to mention that the entire thing was surrounded by a towering pearl white wall! Wasn't that a feature that only prisons should possess?

"It's a little over the top, isn't it?" Maes commented, grinning like the Chesire Cat as he waved goodbye to his departing mother. "Don't be too shocked. The education they give you doesn't actually live up to this place's apperance." Nonchalantly, he breezed past Roy and through the grand pair of metal gates, only slowing his stride to let Roy catch up. His best friend's reaction was something he had been looking forward to all morning, according to Maes' kindly mother.

Snorting in defiance, Roy adjusted his backpack and followed his best friend as if he were just stepping into his home and not a smaller version of the Parliament. "Nothing fazes me," he declared cockily, "I don't know why you were worried in the first place~."

Maes' soft hazel eyes flared with amusement behind his glasses. "I wasn't at all, Roy-Boy," he claimed steadily.

Roy wrinkled his nose at the stingy nickname but otherwise remained quiet. The pair strode across the grass, taking a short-cut to the nearest bench. Maes had told him that he often arrives at least twenty minutes before first period started to catch up with his friends and, when Roy objected and said that they should spend that time get his timetable sorted, he simply said that they could do that during form and get out of sitting in a claustrophobic room.

"You'll like it here," Maes said offhandedly. Roy raised an eyebrow and slid into the seat opposite his best friend. "Most of the teachers are pretty strict, but we have a few that are actually really fun, and we always have really entertaining lessons. I think you'd like chemistry the best. Mr. Vegas is probably the best teacher for it too, because he really likes to make explosions and he always turns on really good music..."

Roy was quick to tune him out. It wasn't as if he really cared about what Maes had to say; he was going to meet them all anyways. Instead, his mind wandered to Friday afternoon's ice hockey match. It didn't really mean to happen - he just found himself thinking about it. He had nearly forgotten with the panic of getting everything ready over the weekend. How he could have lost memory of such an incredible match, he had no idea.

The little one from the CA team - Edward, Roy remembered his name was - had probably been the most movingly talented of them all. He clearly remembered being mesmerised by the teenager's movments and how fluent and balanced they had been. Watching him on the ice had been like watching a ballerina at their very best. It had been like he had been born just to skate.

 _The puck had been stolen away from Breda and Roy held his breath as the SA team seemed to spread, trying to mark their enemies in order to distract them away from their seemingly inevitable point. Alphonse was having trouble getting away from his marker - he was especially fast and seemed to catch every one of Alphonse's moves before he had time to execute them._

 _But the CA supporters were cheering and it wasn't long before Roy discovered why; their most petite representitive was moving, and he didn't seem to be fooling around. In, out, in out - he weaved through the SA members who tried to distract him, his hockey stick held close to the ice. He was stooped and streamlined and was already twisting around like lightning, but he seemed to be wanting to get even more speed._

Roy remembered standing in his seat with Maes beside him, pumping his fists in the air and yelling the chant that everyone else on their side of the stadium seemed to be screaming: "go, go, let's go, let's go Eddie! Go, go, let's go, let's go Eddie!". It had made his throat scratchy, but the result of their support had been immense.

 _Edward suddenly leaned on his right skate and his entire body twisted in one fluent movement. The cheering's volume increased and Roy could practially smell the determination wafting off the teenager as he shot straight for the SA player who had claimed the puck. Within a flurry of clashing hockey sticks and angered shouting from the offending team, the puck was Edward's._

 _"Over here!" a female voice called - Riza, he thought - from the opposite end of the arena, where she was being marked by a particularily large SA member._

 _The resounding noise of the hockey stick hitting rubber responded to her, but the puck didn't reach her - instead it flew right through her legs. The CA team let out a panicked noise, but Edward made no reaction - instead he was simply observing the SA team as they tried to reach the puck in time._

 _Alas, it had been too fast even for their goaltender, and the CA crowd were chanting even louder as-_

 _The puck had hit the back of the net!_

A truly thrilling moment that had been. The SA side of the crowd had been booing, but the CA supporters were being as loud and as excited as ever. Someone had even taken off their shirt.

That had been what triggered a strike of realization in Roy. Just a simple score given to the right team by an incredible player made him realize that ice hockey was truly an amazing sport. Not only was it exciting to watch and smoothly enjoyable to cheer to, it could also be seen as breathtakingly beautiful. Despite seeming rapid and messy, Roy could see the work and grace that went into each and every movement that each player made.

"Roy."

On the way home, Maes had told him that ice hockey was actually extremely dangerous. He had said that Alphonse had once nearly had his hand sliced off because someone on the enemy team blindly skated into him and had nearly glided through his wrist as he fell to the ice. Not only that, but Roy had once heard that someone had lost control and ended up breaking their ribs when they collapsed into the wall of the stadium.

"Roy?"

He would never take up ice hockey. He'd happily watch it, but he never even wanted to try ice skating.

"ROY!"

A hand collided with the side of his head, promptly knocking Roy off the bench and onto the grass. He let out a cry of anguish and looked up to meet his attacker, only to see Maes' amused hazel eyes staring down at him. "What was that for?!" he barked. Maes burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he too collapsed onto the ground through his hysterics.

"You were blanked out," he weeped hoarsely, "s-so I thought I'd snap you up to attention. It worked!" He took a deep breath to calm himself, but his exhale was still ridden with his laughter.

Stiffly, Roy lifted himself off the floor and brushed off his school uniform as if nothing had ever happened. "Funny," he droned in monotone. He offered no hand to Maes in order to help him up and instead slipped back into his seat, grumbling coldly under his breath. What an imprint that could leave on his reputation, if anyone noticed, that was.

"None of my friends are here yet," Maes absently commented. He was already sat in his seat again, flipping through something on his iPhone screen.

"You don't _have_ any friends."

Maes let out a noise of protest and slapped a hand against his chest, mocking a heartbreak. "Oh, how you damage me. But," he paused, and grinned at his phone like it was an old friend, "a certain Jean Havoc just texted me that him and the rest of the ice hockey team will be late, so they'll arrive during first period. That'll be a good chance for you to meet them."

"What lesson do we have first?" Roy really hoped it was chemestry; he really did love blowing things up. Especially with _fire_. Something about fire really took his breath away sometimes.

"Math with Mr. Jadd. His favourite things are pop quizzes and homework."

"Aw, crap."

.

The classrooms were actually very comforting and expensive, but that had been expected for such a grand school.

Roy liked how simple the colour schemes were in the room they were currently sat in. A dark mahogany floor, with white walls and royal blue curtains that were drawn to let sunlight beam in from the large windows. The desks were a paler wooden colour, with matching chairs, and were set out in the classical American-style arrangement. It all certainly matched the outer physique of the school.

From the moment they walked in, Roy had people peering him from all over the room. There had to be twenty students in there and they were all staring at him like hungry vultures circling their newest prey.

"Just ignore them," Maes said nonchalantly, taking Roy's wrist and pulling him to an empty seat third to the back of the room. "They're all interested because you're a new face and you're starting in the middle of the year. It's not every day we get a transfer student around here, so the attention will be on you for a few days, but it'll calm down within a week."

Roy sighed. It was always like this when he moved to a new school - it wasn't like he wasn't used to it. After all, he had been switching to different schools all over Amestris, and his foster mother really hoped that CA would be the one he would finally be happy in. "Alright," he moaned, "but I hope it's good attention, and not negative. Negative attention won't get me the ladies."

Rolling his eyes, Maes slid into his chair. "Always thinking about the ladies," he retorted. Roy took no notice of him and instead sat down himself, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

The teacher looked like an absolute dunce. He was elderly and painfully ugly, with a bald head and plain brown eyes that stared down at you like a hawk. The pink t-shirt and black slacks did nothing to mask his overweight, severely pot-bellied figure and the navy tie made him look no better. Something told Roy that Mr. Jadd wasn't exactly the most exciting of math teachers and his apperance did nothing to disprove this.

Sighing in dread, Roy scanned the classroom. No one in particular caught his eye and none of them seemed like very interesting people. Oh well, he'd have to find out whether he was correct when he got to know everybody better. "This class looks plain," Roy moaned, more to himself then anyone.

There was a hum of agreement and Roy snapped his head to look at Maes, but the bespeculated teenager hadn't even said anything. "It is," an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere beside him, "Mr. Jadd makes his lessons painstakingly boring, but he's really unobservational, so you can just fall asleep. It's not like we really need this in life anyway."

"Oh, hello Jean!" Maes greeted. Roy looked around to meet sharp grey eyes set into a grinning country-boy face. His gaze may be dangerous, but Roy could see the friendly attitude radiating off him like smoke from a fire. It was as if serious stones were carved into a smiling pumpkin.

 _Next, Maes motioned to the goaltender. "That's Jean Havoc. He's not smart, but he's in my science class and he's damn good at causing accidental explosions when we do practical chemistry. He's loyal, too, and he's funny."_

 _Roy noted that Jean's reflexes were immense. Nearly every puck that flew his way was blocked by his hockey stick, no matter where it went and how fast it was going. In fact, the only ones that hit the net had been the short stuff's shot and the ones he let through when he apparently wasn't paying attention. Also, Maes found great amusement in pointing out that he was a whole lot taller than the actual goal and could probably block it all if he lay in front of it and stretch out. Roy had heartily agreed with this._

Oh. _Oh_. No wonder he seemed familiar. This was Central Academy's ice hockey goaltender, Jean Havoc. A jolt of respect rushed through him and he pushed down the reflex to saltue. In Friday afternoon's match, he had been incredible. Maes had told him that he was known as the Boss of the team despite not being the captain, because he was kind yet unmistakeably fierce when it came to the correct time. _So he looked scary, but he wasn't in reality._

"Who's this?" The blonde ice hockey player pointed down at Roy.

"That's Roy. He's new here, and as his childhood best friend, I've been burdened with the duty of looking after his immature ass," Maes responded, not holding back on the friendly insults. Sending him a sour glare, Roy looked back at Jean, who's grin had widened considerably. At this point, Roy was unsure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. His eyes said cold and serious but his expression said bright and silly. It was all a bit confusing.

"Hi." Jean held out a hand, which Roy shook with forced confidence. "I'm Jean, Jean Havoc. Nice to meet'cha." The blonde then slipped into the chair on the other side of him and Roy took the time to watch the door out of the corner of his eye. If he was here, didn't that mean that the rest of them were here, which meant that shortstack Edward would be here...

Oh, God. Edward would be here soon.

"Jean, we usually sit at the front... what're you doing there?" Another voice, this one rougher than Jean's. Roy looked over immediately to see a slightly thicker-set teenager (though he wasn't really _that_ overweight) staring at the blonde almost expectantly.

"I wanted to sit next to the new kid. His name is Roy," Jean replied, crossing his arms.

 _"That is Heymans Breda," Maes told him, "but we just call him Breda. He's in my class for a lot of lessons - he's really smart, too, and he lets me copy his math homework."_

 _Breda wasn't particularly fast, Roy noted, but the way he used his stick with one expert hand gave him a certain air that practically shouted 'practice'. It wasn't a natural talent, it was trained talent, and Roy found himself bored watching him straight away. He didn't seem like the most interesting person alive judging by the way he played. Though what right did he have to think that? He'd never even met Breda before. The heavy-set ice hockey play could be the most creative and unique person ever to exist._

Oh, so this was Breda. He only knew that because he had been the thickest (that was only word more polite than fattest) member on the ice hockey team. Hazel eyes, pallor mahogany hair and a wide grin that practically screamed understanding. It was like looking at a giant teddy bear, only an incredibly intelligent one. Maybe he would let Roy copy his math homework like he apparantly does to Maes.

"Hi, I'm Heymans Breda," he greeted with a warm half-smile, "I saw you in the stands during Friday's match. You looked really excited when little Edward got that score from across the entire stadium. Was it your first ice hockey match?"

Roy felt his face go hot. Had he looked so embarrassing and awkward that it was clear it was his first time? He blinked and folded his arms over his chest, looking down his nose in an exaggerated, dignified manner in order to seem natural. "Yeah, it was my first. It was really thrilling, actually, and you guys really deserved that win," he said, a smile gracing his features, "I'll have to go to future matches some time."

The ice hockey player's smile expressed every ounce of his gratitude. "Why don't you come with us down to training, too? Our coach already lets Maes come and watch, so why don't you?" he offered, his hazel eyes peaceful. "Plus, we always go out for pizza afterwards, and we get it free because we play for Central City."

Humming thoughtfully, Roy weighted out his options. Not going down would not change his resume and he'd go home every evening like he usually did. It would make no difference and life would just continue ploughing on the same. But attending their practices would mean he gets to watch what they do... not to mention the fact that they go for pizza...

"As long as I don't have to skate," he said carefully. "I have no balance... or foot co-ordination."

Maes laughed behind the back of his hand. "You don't have to. I've never really wanted to, but they made me, and I can move on my own at least."

"So you're coming to our practices?" Jean spoke for the first time for a while, sounding extremely excited. Uncertainly, Roy nodded. "I like it when new people watch me. I feel the need to be my very best when they do." With an almost cocky aura, the country-boy blonde cracked his knuckles and flexed his neck. "Of course, I always do the best anyway, but-"

"Liar," someone retorted from behind them. Roy snapped his head round in surprise to see a pair of deep honey brown eyes staring into him like a knife through warm butter, as if they could look deep into his very soul. Startled, he jumped forward in his chair, and only just managed to catch himself on the table. "Jean, you're like a wrecking ball when you're training. The only thing you're good at is goaltender."

"Oooh," Breda smirked, looking smug as ever. Jean flipped him off with a middle finger.

Meanwhile, Maes was chuckling behind his sleeve. "Hey Riza, hey Fuery," he greeted, hazel eyes twinkling in warmth.

"Captain!"

"Hallo, Cap."

They called him- no, her- Captain... that means that...

 _"That's Riza Hawkeye," Maes then pointed to a member of the team who moved almost robotically and was quite obviously female, "she's downright frightening to talk to and if she had a gun, she'd shoot you with it for getting in her way. Her fierce determination and scarily logical attitude were what got her into the position of captain of both Central's ice hockey and volleyball team."_

 _Roy could hear her shouting even from where he was sat: 'Jean, remember to lay your stick out flat!' or 'don't skate into each other, idiots!' It was clear that she was frightening, bossy and scarily demanding... which was suitable for the captain of an ice hockey team, he supposed. He would have to flirt with her sometime to test her out._

Oh, so her voice certainly lived up to her reputation. It sounded fierce and demanding yet motherly all at the same time. He glanced up at her sharp brown eyes and her long blonde hair, which fell over her shoulders in silky golden tumbles. She certainly was beautiful, that was for sure; but he found himself unattracted. Maybe it was because she looked muderous, or perhaps he just didn't know her enough. After all, it did take a while for him to trust other people.

But her face suddenly relaxed and a silky smile graced her features, revealing a straight row of pearly white teeth underneath soft pink lips. "You're the new kid from Eastern Academy," she observed, "hello, my name is Riza Hawkeye - I'm the Captain of the ice hockey and the volleyball teams."

"I know," he responded reflexively, "Maes told me when I was watching you guys play against Southern Academy the other day."

Riza furrowed her brow, and Maes narrowed his eyes. "You're supposed to introduce yourself, idiot," he growled, completely out of character.

Realizing his mistake, Roy just grinned and offered his hand out to her. "Hello, I'm Roy Mustang," he said. His voice was bright with a sense of mock eagerness - suddenly, he didn't really feel like flirting with her like he had when he had originally saw her on the ice. The Captain just let out a deep breath and sat down in the seat in front of Maes, who playfully poked at her golden hair.

 _Why am I not attracted to her?_ Roy wondered silently, watching the front of the room. Mr. Jadd was on his computer, scrolling to find what Roy guessed would be the registration form. _She's beautiful and strong, yet I just don't seem to want her... usually, I outright fall for girls like that..._

 _You're gay._

No, I'm not. I like girls.

 _Liar._

Bitterly, Roy soured his look and spun hiz gaze around the room, trying to distract himself. That was when he saw the boy that had accompained Riza - that was Fuery, because Maes had greeted both Riza and him, and he just hadn't paid attention to him.

 _Then he pointed out a small (but not the smallest) member of the team, one who was moving rather nervously for someone who was doing a sport so fast-paced. His skate occasionally slid on the ice at an awkward angle and the one Maes had introduced as Breda would often laugh whenever he tried not to panic at the unnatural movement. "That's Kain Feury. He's really shy and he's a super big dork, but he's really smart and he's really good at computers. People say that he's the one who fixed the lighting for this place when they broke during practice one time."_

 _Roy immediately liked Kain (even though he'd never even met him before). He looked intelligent even from underneath all that protective padding and from the sound of it, he was actually very knowledgeable. Something told Roy that Kain didn't exactly find ice hockey as exciting or as thrilling as the rest of his team did. Perhaps he was sensible and was more concerned about his own safety?_

Oh, yes. The intelligent-looking one. His apperance certainly looked knowledgeable; tousled black hair, soft peach skin, a pair of glasses framing gentle dark eyes. The way he smiled nervously at Roy as he sat beside Riza suggested that he clearly felt out of place, and in a way, Roy found himself liking the teenager's company immediately.

"You're Roy, right?" he said quietly.

Roy nodded and grinned confidentally at him. "Yeah, and you're Kain Fuery. I saw you and your team playing the other day - I liked that score you did. Their goaltender couldn't even touch it."

"Oh, no. That was all Edward. He hit it in, and my hockey stick touched it," he said anxiously, his face flushing a vibrant red in his awkwardness. Jean and Breda were laughing now and Kain looked even more embarrassed, if possible. "It's not my fault that I'm not that good yet! I keep getting ill during practise," he jabbed pathetically, as if trying to take back his dignity.

But before anyone could say anything else, Mr. Jadd's booming voice resounded across the room, and the incoherent talking that had filled the silence before died away. "Good morning class!" he called, clapping his hands to quiet anyone who dared to speak. "I know everyone must be tired from your oh-so-busy weekends, but we're in school now, so listen up! Before I start any teaching, I would like to introduce the newest student to our Academy. I expect you all to treat him well and as if he was your friend. Roy, could you stand up?"

The onyx-eyed teenager moaned internally and tried to keep the undignified slump out of his shoulders as he stood. "Hi," he said shortly, giving everyone an awkward wave. Next he watched Mr. Jadd, waiting for permission to sit down.

Staring at him a bit more, the teacher sighed and said, "alright, sit if you aren't going to say anything else." Now that his interest was off the new student, he seemed a whole lot more monotone, and his gaze was dull as he launched straight into an unenthusiastic lecture about trigonometry.

Roy had no idea what any of it meant. Adjacent? Opposite? What?

When they eventually got written work, Roy had just been copying off a very willing Breda, when his hand jolted and his pencil led snapped at the movement. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. Then, in an amplified voice, he called, "has anyone got a pencil I could borrow? Or a sharpner, at least?"

Silence. That was what he was met with. Silence, and the sound of pencils against paper. Even Maes just passed him a sheepish glance and just continued copying off a dozing Breda's work. Feeling betrayed, Roy sat forward in his seat and was about to raise his hand when suddenly a sharpner fell onto his desk. The noise it made - the echo of metal against wood - startled Jean out of his seat and a few sleeping students awake.

"Oh, thanks-"

But he looked up, and suddenly, his breath fell from his lungs again.

Eyes of - amber? No, they didn't even begin to hit the first strokes of amber. They were more of a molten gold- wait. Who had golden eyes anyway? Where those contacts? No, because there was no clear ring where the paper-thin plastic was cut away for the pupil.

Oh. _Oh_. So those were real.

But it wasn't just his eyes. His soft peach skin, smattered with the lightest of golden freckles that painted his dimpled cheeks and the bridge of his dipped button nose. A pair of matching blonde bangs cupped his face with some sort of antenne sticking up at the top of his head. Golden locks tumbled down his back in a loose plait, tied by a simple elastic band. He'd never known such a unique style to look so good and natural on someone - especially if they were male - but decided not to question it.

Roy's eyes glanced over his hands and he jolted-

 _"The short one is Edward Elric, the older of the two. I don't actually know... well, anything about Edward, apart from the fact that he's short, he always wears gloves to school and that he's damn good at ice hockey. He's apparently got some kind of advantage in the power of his hit but Breda and Jean didn't tell me when I asked about it. They said it was something private... anyway, I don't think you two would get along. He may be a genius, but he's pretty antisocial when it comes to new people."_

 _Roy curiously focused his attention to the shortest member of the team - now dubbed as Edward apparently - and observed in both shock and in awe as he chased who he thought was his younger brother across the ice. Both were moving effortlessly at lightning speed, though Edward seemed to be quicker and easily caught up to the taller._

... he always wears gloves to school...

Those were gloves. White, with the sleeves of his long-sleeved black hoodie trapping the ends to his wrist as if it weren't the middle of summer.

This was Edward Elric. The one he had been mesmerised by as soon as he glided out across the stadium. The one that had made his heart beat a million times faster than what should be considered natural. The one that had looked like he belonged out on the ice, in those skates, wearing that royal navy and golden outfit like it was his pajamas.

Roy hadn't known what he had expected him to look like, but it certainly wasn't this. Not that he was complaining, because he was pretty damn hot-

Hold on. He can't say that. He's not gay.

 _You are._

Am not.

 _Liar._

I'm not lying.

 _They were all interesting, every single one of them, but Roy couldn't stop staring at Edward. He didn't know why this stranger captivated him so much, or why he left him breathless even though he hadn't seen his face before. He didn't want to think about those gay - why are they gay anyway, it's not like he's a homosexual - whispers echoing in his eardrums but, at the same time, he didn't want to stop listening to them._

I'm not.

 _Are too._

Roy didn't know whether it was healthy to argue with yourself and loose, but he chose not to dwell on the fact. Instead he ripped his gaze away from Edward and looked nervously at his pencil as he sharpened it. The small figure was stood in front of him with a gloved hand held out, clearly expecting the return of his sharpener after Roy was finished.

"Hey, Eddie," Jean greeted quietly. The blonde's head turned - Roy blaunched at how handsomely sharp his jawline was, though secretly - but he didn't return his taller teammate's smile. His golden eyes remained cold and his expression unreadable. "Ah, unfriendly as ever, I see."

Edward's eyes narrowed, if slightly. "Suck one," he grumbled flatly, no clear humor in his tone. Visibly taken aback, Jean just rolled his eyes and turned back to his work - Breda's sheet of paper was now on his desk (how did it get there?) and he was writing rapidly to get it copied down. _Lazy butts._

Without saying anything, Roy finished sharpening his pencil and dropped the sharpener into Edward's palm. To those who didn't know better, he looked as if he just wanted to be sensible and quiet, but in actual fact, Roy was too afraid to talk around the blonde. He was cold and painstakingly silent - Roy could practically smell the mystery wafting off his body.

The onyx-eyed student watched Edward turn and stalk off to the front of the room. How did he get in? He hadn't seen him come through the door, and he was only sat three desks away from it. _He's mysterious, dangerous and handsome. How intruiging... he was just more interested in the smaller boy._

"What's his deal?" Roy mumbled to Maes behind his hand.

Sleepy hazel eyes turned to him and his best friend's expression darkened. "I'm not sure," he whispered, "it's like... he's just shut everyone out. He doesn't talk in class, he doesn't talk at lunch, and he doesn't talk much at ice hockey practice. The only person I've seen him talk to without scowling is Alphonse, and even then he keeps his voice minimal." He absently cracked a knuckle. "It's best not to ask, really. Maybe he's hiding something dark..."

Roy copied down another equation from Maes' completed work, snorting profusely. "Yeh, he sure seems like the kinda guy outright."

Despite seeming uninterested, Roy wanted to know more. All he knew about the kid was that he was short, quiet and breathtakingly handsome ( _gay..._ no, I'm not gay...). There was nothing more to it. And even if Edward didn't want people to dig up what was underneath the cold attitude, Roy just found himself even more attracted to him.

Not to mention that he really pulled off the 'short yet slender' look. He could probably fit his hands around Edward's calf!

"Just don't even try, Roy. He's a massive jerk. He's not even supposed to be in this class - he was put in with the lower years like he should have been, but all the work was too easy for that smart brain of his and he had to be moved up so he didn't get bored," Breda commented, his whispers monotone and harsh. "He's real good at ice hockey and he has a reason for that, but it's not my place to tell."

Just then, Riza spoke up for the first time in a while. "I recruited Edward because of Alphonse's reccomondation and was truly shocked when I watched him. For a while I was curious was to what was giving him so much power in both his movements and his swings, but then his brother told me, and it all made sense. Like Breda said, it's not really my place to tell, but he'll tell you if he trusts you."

A hidden advantage? This was making Roy all the more curious.

"That'll take a while," Jean snorted, leaning back in his chair. "He's like a book that refuses to open, that one. I like him, but I wish he'd talk more. He has a really good sense of humor if he decides to actually use it..."

"He once watched a toddler stack it off a slide and laughed for hours," Breda said softly, his voice ridden with chuckles. "I mean, it was funny, but out off all the things to laugh to, it was a poor kid hurting itself. Classic Eddie."

An onyx gaze found its way to the back of a blonde head, lowered against the desk. _He was asleep_. All of this talk about Edward being closed off and mysterious was just making him want to discover the boy even more.

.

"Ugh... that class was so plain!" Breda moaned, his hand running through his pallor mahogany hair. His school bag - which had one of those golden hockey sticks sticking out of the top - nearly collided with Roy as he moved to push past him, desperate to get out of that God forsaken math room. That was certainly one period he was going to dread the next time he had it. Mr. Jadd had to be the plainest teacher that had ever taught him before.

Maes grinned, following the others as they made it out of the door. "It wasn't for us," he said offhandedly.

"That's because you all copied my work!"

"It's not like it never happens," Jean retaliated, laughing profusely.

They were all pushing through a crowded corridor, with most of them hanging onto Riza's shirt as to not loose her within the flood of students. It was clausterphobic and yet it was completely normal. "What do we have next?" Roy said to Maes, who was clinging to his sleeve as if his life depended on it.

"Uh... P.E," he resonded, then groaned loudly. "Ugh... that means we're doing volleyball. I despise volleyball more then I despise mushrooms and tomatoes..." His shoulders slumped as their group shoved out of that busy corridor and into a wider, less crowded space, where lockers lined the walls and stairs led up to the upper floors. "It's no problem for you guys, though."

The ice hockey team - minus Alphonse - all looked up, even Edward, who was getting what looked to be his P.E kit out of his locker. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but a nagging feeling told him that he wasn't exactly happy for it. Meanwhile, Breda looked nervous, and was mumbling something to Jean, who seemed just as anxious.

Riza gazed at them levely. "Edward is helping the coach today," she droned flatly, "just like everyday. So quit your nattering and get your lazy asses to the sports hall!" Her chocolate eyes accented her fury and immediately, Fuery (who, Roy noticed, had stayed quiet all throughout math class), Breda, and Jean were off down the corridor at a run and out of the door. Maes, Edward, Riza and Roy watched them go with unimpressed expressions.

"I'll be taking the shortcut," Edward said, his voice void of emotion. "See you in the courts."

Without even waiting for a response, the blonde had turned and was pacing it up the stairs in record time. "What's his deal?" Roy grumbled, hoping someone would give him insight in why the teenager was so quiet. It was as if he were an adult and not a fifteen year old - at his age, he should be eccentric and excited about everything, not acting as if he spent his day sorting out finances.

"I dunno." Maes shrugged. "C'mon, let's go to P.E. You have the best job - sitting on the bench while you don't have any of our P.E uniform!"

"Yay..."

* * *

 _so this was going to be longer, but I thought that maybe 6.3k words were enough. next we have gym class - volleyball, because I finished Haikyuu! today. XD it will be interesting, I hope._

 _now to respond to reviews..._

 ** _TheAmazingAlchemist310:_** _thank you very much! I've noticed how active you are on my stories. it's nice._

 ** _PortgasDDom:_** _here! I hope I didn't disappoint._

 ** _pokeperson01:_** _thank you!_

 ** _Crooked Mind of 15:_** _nono n ono don't lose your mind you need that_

 ** _SofiaSapphire:_** _ah, thanks! let's hope this pleased you._

 ** _Tempest:_** _how was it? I tried really hard to make it unique and good... thanks, too!_

 ** _primu:_** _well, wait no more!_

 ** _Guest:_** _thanks! I feel that being too descriptive makes people bored._

 ** _Guest(2):_** _thank you!_

 ** _Guest(3):_** _wow thank you!_

 _thank you all so much for those! they were all so nice and they really made me want to write. I would just like to say that CHAPTERS make you happy. REVIEWS make me happy. REVIEWS make chapters. you get the idea. so, reviewing makes for a faster update! I would really like to hit **20** reviews for this, if not **15** , because we smashed my review goal for last time! also, NO FLAMES._

 _I hope you all enjoyed my efforts. I stayed up until 11pm writing this. also, sorry if there are typos, I usually correct those out when I have writers block and need to get my inspiration back._

 _- **royal :D**_


	3. chapter 03: volleyballs

_GO GO LET'S GO LET'S GO DATEKO_ _*bangs bottles together*_

 _enjoy,  
\- **royal**_

* * *

 **Ice Hockey**

 _a Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction  
written by: royalvite._

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

 _( volleyballs )_

.

The sports hall was huge, to say the least. Bigger than his own house certainly. It turned out that it was one of the two buildings that were detached off CA's main block, with the outdoor courts (they called them the Red Courts and the Adidas Arena, even though the former wasn't even red in the least) located just behind it. Roy could see them through a window as he walked past, with the ice hockey team minus Edward and Alphonse in front of him and Maes flanking him. There were two figures beside the nets, but they passed too quickly for him to see who they were.

Just looking at the entrance room of the sports hall made him feel severely out of place. This particular area wasn't large, but it was almost _too_ elegant and orderly. He felt like he would leave dirt wherever he touched! Seriously, they needed to tone down on how much money they spent on this school. Not that he was complaining, but there _was_ a point where it all got _too_ much...

"I have a question," Maes piped up, "if Eddie isn't playing, why did he get his gym kit from his locker?"

"To get his trainers most likely," Riza responded. She stopped outside of a door labelled 'female changing room' and pushed it open with her shoulder, before sharply setting her gaze upon her ice hockey team. "I expect you all to be on the top of your game in volleyball today, by the way. If not, remember that I have a working gun and its bullets at home..."

With that delightful threat, the Captain disappeared into the changing rooms and the door made a gentle squeezing noise as it pressed shut.

Jean blinked and pushed the door to their own changing rooms open. He shuddered violently as he let the others in, grey eyes wide in dismay. "I know she'll never do it," he began shakily, "but Cap seriously needs to stop threatening us with her gun."

"She actually has a gun?" Roy stepped around Maes and put his school bag on the bench, knowing he wouldn't need it. After all, he was only sitting out and observing this lesson. He'd have to bug his foster mother to hurry up and buy the school's P.E kit before the end of the week, if it looked fun that was.

Snorting, Breda pulled out his shirt in sync with the others. Their kit was simple, yet managed to look sophisticated anyway; a white polo shirt labelled 'Central Academy' on the breast and a pair of black loose shorts with the same logo on the thigh. Roy personally liked the idea of having polo shirts as your P.E kit - back in EA, they had normal t-shirts that made you look painsteakingly fat even if you tucked it in. They just made him feel obese!

Roy paid no attention to them as they changed, instead scrolling absently through his phone. There was no way he was going to be seen as a pervert by staring at their topless/bottomless bodies, even if he was curious about how much muscle they had gained from doing ice hockey. He caught a glimpse of a faint six-pack from beside him, where Jean was stood laughing at something Breda said all the while remaining topless.

This was getting severely uncomfortable and _was the room getting hot, or was it just him_? Not to mention the other kids also getting changed were mumbling and staring at Roy like he was some sort of freak on show.

 _Gay._

Fuck off.

 _You can never get rid of me~_

"I'm kind of excited for volleyball," Maes said absently. "Little Eddie is probably going to act as the tosser again while we practise our spikes. He's really good at them. Or maybe he'll spike it for us again while we practise recieving? Oh, or maybe Mrs. Curtis will let us practise being libero again while he spikes...!"

With a quick glance, Roy concluded that Maes had finished changing and turned his head to look at him. "Don't tell me you guys play volleyball too," he said flatly, discouraged by all the gibberish they were speaking. Is this what sporty people like them always talked about? And who got excited for physical fucking education (hence the name P.E) anymore?

"No. We just play it with Riza a lot. She _is_ Captain of both the ice hockey and volleyball teams, after all. Speaking of, she won't be at ice hockey practise tomorrow night." Jean finished tying the shoelaces on his black trainers and collapsed onto the bench, waiting for Breda to finish. "Hey, where's Fuery? I haven't seen him since he disappered in the math room..."

"He had to go home sick," Breda commented, pulling on his shirt and adjusting his too-tight shorts. Everyone - including a blushing-but-hiding-it Roy - joined the flood of boys leaving the changing rooms and they stepped outside, pressing against the wall in order to avoid getting crushed by everybody else. "Someone accidently punched him in the stomach while he was trying to get his gym kit and he ended up puking all over the wall because of it. He needs to do something to get a stronger stomach because it seems pretty weak."

Maes and Jean found it positively hysterical and fell against each other laughing, with Riza - who had just emerged from her own changing room - staring at them with a levelly unimpressed gaze. Jean wheezed, leaning on his knees. Meanwhile, Roy just furrowed his brow and said nothing. Were they not in the least bit concerned about the health of their friend?

"Hey, dorkwads," Riza growled dangerously, "get onto the Red Courts before you meet the butt of my gun." Breda opened his mouth to retort, but a sharp glare from those icy chocolate eyes cut him off and he was out of the door before one could say 'Glock twenty-two pistol'.

.

"LISTEN UP, IDIOTS!"

Roy watched smugly from a nearby bench as the entire class jolted in surprise, snapping around to face their P.E teacher like war-torn soldiers approaching their dangerously strict superior. Mrs. Curtis - _hold on, is this Mr. Curtis' wife, or was he just hallucinating?_ \- certainly had that kind of aura around her. That was something he couldn't deny.

With her dreadlocked dark hair and sharp eyes that seemed to stare deep into your soul, you could certainly see how she gained her title as one of the most frightening teachers in CA. Her face was set in a permanent scowl that could rival Edward's, her hands held on her slender hips as he stared you down. The dark kit she wore just accented her dark persona just as eyeliner enhanced an emo's depressed apperance. Something about her really made Roy nervous; thank the Lord that he wasn't taught by her today, or he would have shat himself.

The onyx-eyed teen watched Breda push Jean's hasty salute down.

"GET THAT LOOK OF YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE FACES!" Mrs. Curtis demanded angrily. Even Riza tensed at her provoked expression. "STOP SHAKING, HAVOC! IT'S NOT EVEN COLD, YOU WORTHLESS PILE OF SHIT, SO QUIT YOUR USELESS BLUBBERING AND SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Stuttering, Jean froze his hands together. "Y-yes, Ma'am," he stammered.

"THAT'S MA'AM TO YOU, HAVOC."

A questioning furrow touched Jean's brow. "Yes, _Ma'am_ -"

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY?! IT'S MA'AM, YOU DEAF TWAT. **MA'AM**."

Jean remained quiet and it seemed to please the teacher considerably.

"ALRIGHT! NOW THAT YOU DICKWADS HAVE ACTUALLY SHUT UP, I CAN GET ON WITH THE LESSON!" Suddenly, Mrs. Curtis' voice dramatically decreased in volume, and a gentle smile graced her features. Taken aback by the sudden change in persona, Roy leant forward on the bench and cocked an ear to listen. It was difficult to hear her now that she was talking at a normal amplification. "Today, I want to help you out with your recieving, because we all know that you need practise on that.

"And at the end of the lesson, I hope to have a couple of proper matches between groups of you. I'll be splitting the ice hockey team up within different groups because they're heavily advantaged with the amount of practise they get with their Captain. As usual, we'll have Edward and I spiking to you from that-" she motioned lazily to a block of wood set up just behind the opposite side of the net, "-and I want you to try and receive it so it doesn't fly off to the side or behind you. Understand?"

At the mention of Edward's name, Roy suddenly realized that the petite blonde was nowhere to be seen. He would have thought that Edward would be on the block ( _if he was tall enough to reach the top of it_ , his mind helpfully supplied) if he were to be anywhere.

But, as if on cue, a small, slender figure appeared in the entrance to the Red Courts, pushing a cart full of blue and gold volleyballs in front of him. He was still wearing his black hoodie and matching skinny jeans, but instead of his dark red Converse, he wore a pair of black trainers instead. Roy also noticed that his blonde hair was pulled up in a simple ponytail instead of being in the plait he had worn previously.

 _He's still hot._

Roy chose not to respond to that nagging voice in his head.

 _Because you know I'm right._

Was he going insane, or was it normal to argue with yourself?

Without so much as acknowledging anybody's stares, Edward moved the cart into the middle of the two spiking blocks and took out one of the balls. He ghosted over it with gloved hands, as if he were testing out the weight and feel. It looked almost proffesional, the way he did it. _I swear to God, if someone tells me that he plays volleyball too..._ he thought sourly.

"For the sake of both you guys and the new kid over there," Mrs. Curtis began once more, "Edward will be showcasing a suitable recieve that I will expect you all to follow. In no ways does he play this proffesionally, but he manages to execute a perfect recieve as if he did, and that is how I would like you dickwads to treat the ball. As if you did it like a pro. Or, as if you played volleyball for a living!"

"But he's coached by Riza in ice hockey," some unidentified student moaned, "and Riza's the Captain of the volleyball team! You can't expect us to be as good as those who get more practise than us, Ma'am." A hum of agreement rumbled through all the students apart from Riza and those she coached. The teacher's scowl darkened at this.

"At least try, William, or just shut the Hell up. You're disrupting my lesson," Mrs. Curtis hissed bitterly at the kid, who scowled and slumped his shoulders. Ignoring him completely, she turned to Edward, who was still holding the volleyball in his hands, and grinned warmly at him. "Edward, move to the correct position in the court, if you please?"

The blonde silently obliged, moving from beside the volleyball cart and stopping near the centre of opposite side of the court. He tossed the ball to the P.E teacher and stared at her through expectant golden eyes, awaiting his next command. Roy couldn't help himself as he observed the smaller boy and the way the brilliant rays of sunshine accented his faded freckles, giving him an almost angelic glow that gave the effect of a beautiful halo.

But the dark scowl that seemed to decorate his features permenately sliced through mentioned halo, the furrow of his brow and the dull sheen in his molten golden eyes breaking through the light with shadows of their own. Something about his expression made Roy wonder what his train of thought was. Maybe he was simply deep in thought, or perhaps the cold atittude was caused by a reason more sinister? How hot and mysterious-

 _You're beng gay again._

No I'm not. I'm observing the facts-

 _There's no point denying it~_

Go away, random voice in my head.

 _Tch... no._

Trying to distract himself, Roy set his onyx gaze upon Mrs. Curtis instead. He had been so deep into his thoughts that he hadn't even seen her climb onto the spiking block, nor had he noticed that William kid position himself beside the volleyball cart. "Now," she began, "receving a ball can either be easy as pie or painfully difficult, depending on the type of situation you are in. Someone give me an example- oh, Riza. Why don't you have a go?"

"When someone spikes the ball past the blockers," Riza supplied confidently.

"Good! If someone gets around the blockers and your libero isn't ready for it, it is legal to recieve the ball and get what we call a chance ball. The easiest attacks to recieve would be straight, but not many use straight simply because it is easy to catch. Usually, the ball would be going quickly if this happens, so the reciever would have to be ready to really get smacked real hard in the arms by it. Ready, Edward?"

The blonde only lowered his stance and gave a level nod.

... and Roy let out a gasp of both awe and shock as their P.E teacher threw the ball above her head and smacked it directly at Edward with her bare palms. It had to be going at least twenty miles per hour, it flew so fast, and if it were to hit Edward in the head he was sure to be knocked out by it. How was someone so small going to counter an attack so fierce?

But the blonde didn't seem panicked in the least by its incredible speed and he moved smoothly to receive it, expression cold and unreadable as ever. His left knee bent slightly, he pushed his arms out in front of him and clasped his hands together in order to create a platform for the ball to bounce off. The sound of rubber hitting metal resounded through the air as the ball hit his wrists and flew upwards, back toward the net and into the excited crowd of observing students.

"Impressive!" Mrs. Curtis crowed, clapping her hands. She then turned to the rest of the class and motioned to the stoic blonde teenager. "That is how I'd like you all to recieve the ball. Don't panic, or you'll freeze up and it'll end up hitting you in the face. If you were watching Edward's face, you would've seen how he watched it come toward him without even batting an eyelid, because he knew what he was doing."

 _The sound of rubber hitting something metal resounded through the air as the ball hit his wrists and flew upwards, back toward the net and into the excited crowd of observing students._

 _... rubber hitting something metal..._

"Can I have another situation where you may have to recieve the ball?"

This time, it was Maes who gave her a response. It sounded tenative and unsure, as if he were uncertain about what he was saying. After all, Maes didn't play volleyball in the slightest. "When you have a chance ball and you need to get the ball to the tosser...?" he said, more as if it were a question than an answer.

Mrs. Curtis looked pleased. "Good," she praised briefly, "these shots tend to be slower than the spiker's shot and also tend to come in from above rather than being directly towards you. Therefore, I am going to hit it into the air. Edward, I want you to make sure it goes into William's hands."

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde grumbled.

Letting out a sharp gasp, Jean fell against Breda weakly. "He talked," he mock-sobbed into the brunette's shoulder, "the apocolypse is approaching, Breda! The apocolypse!"

"Shh, it's okay, Jean. It's okay." Breda patted his back.

Edward didn't look the least bit pleased and awarded their dry humor with sour glares as he moved into position. The distinctive noise of skin hitting rubber echoed through the air and Roy watched the ball fall directly on top of the blonde, who had to take a step back in order to meet it with his wrists. Again, a ring of metal resounded out and the volleyball was up in the clouds once more.

With practised ease, William caught the ball and dropped it into the cart with the rest. "Well done, Edward," she praised. "That is a perfect example of how to recieve a chance ball! William is stood exactly where our tosser would be, if he were not ill today. Now, I think that's enough for the lecture part of my lesson-" she nodded towards the cart of volleyballs, "-so we'll be getting straight into the practical part. I will be spiking you for the first ten minutes or so. Line up, you pathetic dickwads!"

Roy decided that he couldn't wait to get his P.E kit. The lesson looked like great fun overall, and their teacher (while being rather colourful in many, many ways, more than one) was a rather eccentric and demanding character. Not to mention the fact that _Edward_ was an assistant despite being a student-

 _Again, a ring of metal resounded out and the volleyball was up in the clouds once more._

 _The sound of rubber hitting something metal resounded through the air as the ball hit his wrists and flew upwards, back toward the net and into the excited crowd of observing students._

 _... rubber hitting something metal..._

What did that mean? Roy remembered hearing the noise, but he hadn't registered it at the time; the moment that the ball hit Edward's wrists, it sounded as if it had just slammed against something metal. Steel scraping against steel. The jolt of a metal sheet shifting upon impact. But, it had just hit Edward's arms, not something metallic at all.

This would be something he would ask about later. His brain was hurting just _thinking_ about the possibilities.

To distract himself, Roy observed the lesson in front of him. The students were chattering excitedly as they waited in a not-so-orderly line just outside of the Red Courts, with Mrs. Curtis stood on the spiking block and Edward taking William's place beside the cart of balls. Everytime the teacher did not have a ball in her hands, he would toss one up without so much as making a noise.

 _Why doesn't he talk?_ Roy thought, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. _He gives everybody the cold shoulder, even the teachers, and yet he isn't mute; he had spoken before. In math class._ The onyx-eyed teenager sighed, running a hand through his silky black locks. Just thinking about the enigma that was Edward Elric perplexed him down to the bone.

Just as Roy had found something to fully relax himself with - it was funny watching Breda repetively fail to recieve a ball without it flying backwards - he felt eyes burning holes into the side of his head and he froze, his veins turning to ice. Edward was looking right at him.

 _Edward was looking at him._

 _Shit-_

 _Do I look good?_

It was frightening, to have such a cold gaze, void of positive emotion, resting on you. Like a teacher glowering at you as you took your exams, or that child who just stared at you in public and made you extremely uncomfortable, beknownst to their parents. But something about it made Roy feel like a giggling schoolgirl being noticed by his all-time crush-

 _YOU'RE BEING GAY AGAIN-_

-and, to be honest, he felt he should just ignore it. After all, it wasn't as if Edward would ever say yes even if he tried. The kid was practically an ice-cube on legs, he was so cold, and Roy had always loved someone with character. There was no way that Edward reached his level-

 _there's no way_ you _reach_ his _level-_

-and that was all he could reason himself with right now.

"You look... odd," Maes commented, violently jerking Roy out of his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the nurse's office or something, Roy-Boy?" His shadow loomed over Roy, the reflection of the sun hiding his gentle hazel eyes from view as the light his the lenses. There was no sweat or sign of exhaustion on him, suggesting that he hadn't had his turn of recieving yet.

The sound of cheering disrupted him, followed by the slam of the rubber volleyballs against the ground. He briefly looked over Maes' shoulder, watching Jean as he perfectly recieved a ball into Edward's gloves hands. The sun was bathing the tarmac, lighting the grey surface up with pools of golden light as it filtered through the branches of a nearby oak tree.

 _Golden sunlight, like Edward's beautiful molten eyes-_

Shut up. I don't know him.

 _Pfft._

Shaking his head, Roy rolled his eyes and 'tched' stroppily at his best friend.. "No, no!" he retorted, "you're just over-exaggerating, Maes. I'm just bored, is all."

"You keep looking at Edward funny."

Roy's stomach jolted- _oh God I hope he hadn't noticed_ \- but he made no physical reaction. "I was just wondering what his deal was. He's so quiet and cold. He doesn't even talk to the teachers. Y'know, the only thing I've heard him say is 'suck it' as of now," he supplied nonchalantly, hoping the act was believable. He wasn't exactly lying, after all...

"Like I said in math, that could just be the way he is," Maes responded. He collapsed onto the bench beside Roy, throwing a nervous glance to Mrs. Curtis, who didn't seem to notice his absence. "Alphonse - his younger brother - told me that he was actually a really good person. Nice to talk to, if he felt in the mood, apparantly. He said that Eddie just wasn't really good with people and didn't really like to talk a lot."

"Eddie?" Roy repeated, arching an eyebrow. Maes wheezed out a half-laugh.

"We call him that as a joke. He hated it, but I think it suits someone so... little."

Roy looked at Edward once more. He watched as the petite blond flexed his right arm and rolled his shoulder, then went to collect a bunch of loose volleyballs with the help of Riza and William. "Heh, he really is little," he commented, observing the contrast of his height with the other students. He had to be at least two heads shorter than most of them... "Why _is_ he so short?"

"Alphonse said he's allergic to milk," Maes supplied helpfully, shrugging. He then laughed rather obnoxiously, before saying, "apparantly, the last time he was asked to drink his milk, he had snarled 'bone growth my ass' and then promptly left the room... classic Eddie. Always swearing."

"Pfft," Roy snorted, before flopping back in the bench. He watched through an unfocused gaze as a random gangly kid recieved a ball perfectly, then did it once more on his second try. "What's he like at ice hockey practices?"

"What?"

"My question remains the same, Maes."

The bespectulated man sighed, rubbing his hands over his now-damp forehead (they _were_ sitting in the sun, after all). "He's pretty much the same. He gets changed with the others - at least, I think so. I wait in the stands and watch from there, so I've never seen what it's like in there. Anyway, they all go onto the ice, he listens and stays silent, then he leaves one practise is over. I think the only time him and Alphonse stayed back was when I was having a go at scoring a goal past Jean, probably to watch me fail."

"Oh." Maybe going the ice hockey practices would be plainer than he originally thought.

"But don't be discouraged," Maes continued as if reading his mind, "he's pretty incredible on the ice. He sometimes makes a joke or two and ends up getting chased around by his brother or something. I heard him laugh really hard at Breda's dramatic story about the time he accidently drop-kicked a toddler..."

Roy paused. "Drop-kicked a toddler?" he repeated. "Accidentally?"

"Pff. It sounds pretty stupid, I know. But Breda's never lied in his life and he's really good at story-telling, so I think he was telling the truth. Anyway," he cleared his throat, "I should really go. Mrs. Curtis'll get mad if she happens to see me not doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and I think we're doing some volleyball matches against each other soon. Goodbye, Roy-Boy~!"

" _Don't call me that_!"

.

The school may have looked grand and impressive, but the food they were serving when break time came around disproved this immensely. Roy nearly gagged as the scent of something stale invaded his senses. It was at that moment that he realized he wasn't quite hungry even after missing breakfast, and he decided that he'd start bringing his own lunches into school son after.

Of course, the canteen lived up to Central Academy's expensive physique; it was huge (as was every room here, he noticed with a dry mouth) with white walls, dark mahogany floors and rows upon rows of perfect wooden tables. At the very back of the room - opposite to where the grand wooden doors were - was where the food was served, in that traditional 'line up with a tray' layout, with cold snacks that were probably poisioned near where you presumably paid.

Beside him, Maes made a hacking noise. "Ugh, the food here is disgusting," he remarked queasily. "I wouldn't advice eating it. Jean once got food poisioning from eating one of their chicken burgers. Do you have a lunch with you or just money?"

"Just money." Roy played with the coins in the pocket of his jeans. "I'm bringing my own food tomorrow, though. Isn't the food at some fancy school like this supposed to be really expensive and healthy and tasty and o' that shit?" Saying nothing more, Maes laughed. He took hold of Roy's wrist and pulled him into a flood of older, taller students and toward a table near to the wall, where familiar people sat talking loudly about their previous class.

When they sat down, Roy was surprised to find himself seated in front of someone he didn't recognize. Short sandy blonde hair, soft hazel eyes, sunken into soft peach skin, painted with faint golden freckles. He had a grey beanie pulled over the back of his head and a pair of glasses hanging off the front of his navy blue t-shirt (maybe he was wearing contact lenses today?). Roy observed the boy quietly. Something about him was familiar...

It wasn't until he looked at Edward - who was sat beside the new face - that it all clicked together. _They're related_ , he told himself. _Brothers._ "Roy," Maes started, motioning to the boy, "that's Alphonse. He's Edward's brother and the sixth member of the Central Academy ice hockey team, as well as Riza's assistant in Captain of the volleyball team."

Alphonse waved genuinely and grinned. "You're the new one in my brother's classes, right? Oh, hi, just call me Al for short. I assume you've met my brother, Eddie," he greeted warmly. _Some difference to his brother,_ Roy thought to himself increduously.

The seething blonde's expression grew darker as his scowl worsened. "It's _Ed_. Eddie makes me sound like a fuckin' dog..." he grumbled, his voice void of emotion as usual. However, this didn't seem to faze Alphonse and the taller just laughed, digging into his BLT sandwhich.

"As you can see," Breda stated, knotting his fingers together and resting his elbows on the table, "he's not in a good mood."

"When does that ever change?" Jean retorted.

"His temper is shorter than he is," Roy added in a bid to be funny.

Alphonse seemed to pale - as did the rest of the table - and he immediately slapped his hand over Edward's mouth, grasping his arms with his free hand as the petite blonde leapt up from his seat. "That- that wasn't a good idea!" he supplied, pushing his older brother back into his seat, still muffling his voice with his palm. "Brother is really sensitive about his height..."

"And he hates to be underestimated because of it, too," Riza spoke for the first time in a while.

Finally, the flare of Edward's temper seemed to have been extinguished and he pulled his head out of Alphonse's grip. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here," he snapped, glaring at Roy with an angry fire in his golden eyes. "If you call be short one more time, I swear to God I will-"

"Woah, woah, okay." Alphonse put his hand over Edward's mouth once more. "He was just making a joke, Brother. You don't want to be turning him into a puddle on the floor on his first day..." Anxiously he grinned over at Roy, waiting until Edward had calmed down before finally allowing him free range with his voice. "Sorry about that... just, don't comment about it and you should be alright..."

Roy watched Edward with an arched eyebrow as he slumped his seat, scowling darkly down at his BLT sandhich. A mysterious midget with the complex of an ice-cube and a temper shorter than himself... Not to mention that he's apparantly really intelligent, and exceedingly talented at ice hockey (as well as being kind of good at volleyball, too). It was only his first day and he was already interested in the guy.

Of course, not in a homosexual kind of way.

 _Liar._

"No promises," he smirked smugly, crossing his arms, his onyx eyes clashing with Edward's fierce golden gaze. The blonde's glower didn't waver, but his scowl deepened to a somewhat murderous glare. Was it good to make enemies with your crush- no, with someone you were supposed to be friends with? Probably not. Did Roy care? Not really. This burst of confidence made him almost seem as bitchy as Edward.

Edward breathed out a sigh, mumbling a word that resembled 'bastard', before he ripped another bite off his BLT sandwich and chewed, seemingly ignoring everybody. "He's living up to his reputation of not giving a shit," Jean commented absently from across the table. That remark earnt a sharp glare, but Edward otherwise said nothing.

"What do we have next?" Maes asked out of the blue.

Breda hummed, then pulled out what Roy assumed would be a timetable (he still had yet to get his from reception). "Chemistry with Mr. Vegas," he supplied helpfully.

At this, Maes clapped. "We're blowing stuff up! I just know it!"

.

He happened to be correct. Everybody - including Roy - happened to be over the moon. Especially Jean, who apparantly had a habit of making explosions bigger then they should be durng practicals according to Maes. Their resident shortstack looked emotionless as usual, but Roy could have sworn that there was a twinkle of excited aggression in those beautiful molten gold eyes of his.

Whether he should be worried or not, he decided to think about that later.

The teacher at the front of the room appeared to be more fun than Mr. Jadd and friendlier than Mrs. Curtis could ever hope to be. With his tousled ginger hair and clear thunder-grey eyes accented by a pair of black glasses, Mr. Vegas had to the dorkiest of science teachers. The white lab coat he wore showcased his lanky build and his wide, goofy grin suggested what his lessons would be like.

At that moment, Roy decided he liked chemistry.

"Greetings, class!" Mr. Vegas exclaimed. "I understand that we have a new student and I would like to say hello to whoever you are." Roy was about to say hello back, but the teacher rambled so quickly that he never even got a chance to open his mouth. "We're doing a practical lesson today, as some of you would know. Say, where did Kain go? Heymans? Jean? Riza? Where did he go?"

"Uh, he went home sick after first period math..." Breda supplied.

The teacher snorted. "Math makes me queasy, too," he responded, before he suddenly launched into a rather vibrant lecture about how they were going to observe the reaction that caesium made when touching water. It all sounded very interesting; apparantly, it blew up violently upon contact, meaning that Jean's e _xplosive_ (badom-tss) reputation would come into play. He was worried for his health but was excited at the same time.

Mr. Vegas didn't exactly seem like the most qualified of science teachers, nor did he seem to know about safety rules. Usually, practicals like this were ruled out for the student body because they were too inexperienced. He certainly liked this lesson already, but he couldn't help but be concerned for his safety...

Oh well. Who cares? After all, he _did_ love fire.

.

"Oh- _shit-"_

 **BOOM**. An explosion shook the classroom and the sound of plastic shattering resounded off the walls, followed by the slap of water against the tiled floor. Roy looked up from his own container, still holding his cube of caesium in between his fingers. Beside him, Jean and Breda were collecting up shards of cracked plastic and stepping over puddles of water, their bodies shaking with laughter as they worked.

At the front of the room, Mr. Vegas looked positively over the moon. "I'm not even mad about how you broke my container, or burnt a hole in my table!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, skipping to their table. "That was incredible! Beautiful! Ten out of ten, Jean, Breda. Top notch science." Roy was so surprised at his unexpected reaction ( _SCIENCE PUNS_ ) that the caesium slipped from between his fingers...

...right into his container of water.

Roy released a string of colourful curses, jumping backwards as the metal made an angry popping noise. An arch of fire decorated the heated air and the plastic container shattered, spraying shards of plastic all over him and the floor. The tall blonde beside him fell to floor he laughed so hard and Mr. Vegas was even more pleased; buzzing around Roy, saying he was a science prodigy even on his first day.

"Holy shit," he breathed, standing up and leaning on the singed tabletop, "I'm pretty sure that practical is unsafe, sir~."

The teacher shrugged. "It's not like you lot are stupid," he said firmly, "I can trust you all with it. Plus, what fun is science when you aren't blowing shit up like that, huh?"

* * *

 _how did you find the ending? i thought having roy blow shit up accidently would be funny. and i really hope that this chapter wasn't boring or plain or too short. i tried hard to make it both funny and interesting, but i'm not sure whether it worked._

 _review responses..._

 ** _TheAmazingAlchemist310:_** _heh, he can't run XD_

 ** _Crooked Mind of 15:_** _thank you!_

 ** _pokeperson01:_** _oh no don't get distracted XD_

 ** _Cutiepie120048:_** _nope. ;3_

 _ **PortgasDDom:** thank you!_

 ** _KeraJeir:_** _i hate it when people just right into ships so i decided not to be hypocritical._

 ** _primu:_** _hehe..._

 ** _Aslowdecentintomadness:_** _ahhh thank you!_

 _thank you all for the reviews! they were amazing and i am so glad that people are liking this. remember that chapters make you happy, happy makes you review, reviews make chapters... can we get maybe 25-30 reviews? also remember no flames are allowed! if you do want to flame, PM it to me, or i will delete it off my review section~_

 _sorry for typos!_

 _- **royal :D**_


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